I want the Japanese future back!
An excerpt from my book, Weeb Economy.
My first book, Weeb Economy, came out in March of this year, but only in Japanese. Since then, a bunch of people have been asking me for an English translation.
Half of the book was a series of translated posts from my blog, so those are already in English. The other half was a new part that I wrote in English and had translated into Japanese by my excellent translator, Kataoka Hirohito. So while I’ll eventually republish the whole book in English, what I can do right now is to publish my English-language first draft as a series of posts on this blog.
In this first installment, I discuss:
Why 2008 was a pivotal turning point for the Japanese economy (and not in a good way)
Why economic stagnation actually presents Japan with a golden opportunity
Why Japanese policymakers should stop focusing so much on macroeconomics, and focus more on development economics
Why a multi-strategy approach to development is better than a single strategy
How Japan has already been attacking its productivity stagnation by improving the performance of its big corporations and by encouraging more startups
Japan lost the future in 2008, not in 1990
When I lived in Japan in the mid-2000s, it still felt very much like “the future”. 3g flip-phones with grainy cameras were far more advanced than anything I had encountered in the U.S. Japanese people had LCD or plasma TVs, while most Americans were still using old cathode-ray machines. Their kitchens had automatic rice-cookers and other appliances I had never seen, and their laptops were higher-performance and far more durable than the ones I had used in the U.S. Their toilets were like something from a spaceship, and their showers could dry clothing. Some people even had digital SLR cameras that could shoot movie-quality video — a miraculous technology I had never even dreamed was possible.
And the cities! Giant screens adorned the sides of buildings, like something out of science fiction. There was always a train station within walking distance that would take me anywhere I wanted to go. The trains were clean and fast and they ran on time, and they even had electronic screens that told you when the train would arrive at the next station. Japanese cars and even motorcycles glided along quietly, where in America they roared and grumbled. Even in the U.S., of course, the most revolutionary, futuristic car — the Toyota Prius — was a Japanese model.
In the 21st century’s opening decade, Japan felt like it had embraced that new century while America was still lingering in the 20th. William Gibson, the celebrated creator of the cyberpunk science fiction genre, wrote this in 2001:
The world’s second-richest economy, after nearly a decade of stagflation…still looks like the world’s richest place, but energies have shifted…yet it feels to me as though all that crazy momentum has finally arrived…[T]onight, watching the Japanese do what they do here, amid all this electric kitsch, all this randomly overlapped media, this chaotically stable neon storm of marketing hoopla, I’ve got my answer: Japan is still the future, and if the vertigo is gone, it really only means that they’ve made it out the far end of that tunnel of prematurely accelerated change. Here, in the first city to have this firmly and this comfortably arrived in this new century - the most truly contemporary city on earth - the center is holding…Home at last, in the 21st century.
Now realize that the Japan of my earliest memories — the early and mid-2000s — was a full decade and a half after the famous bursting of Japan’s economic bubble. I am not hearkening back to the go-go days of the 1980s. By the time Koizumi Junichiro was in office, Japan’s “lost decade” had come and passed, full employment had been restored, and the country had returned to slow but steady economic growth. Despite the overhang of the bubble era, Japanese per capita incomes, measured at international price levels, grew by a respectable 20% between 1990 and 2007:

This was slower than the U.S. or West Europe, but that was mainly due to Japan’s more rapid population aging, which was increasing the percentage of retirees. In terms of GDP per worker, Japan kept pace with other rich countries over this time period, and even outgrew the United States:

And this growth was being felt by regular Japanese people. It wasn’t just fancy gadgetry and big screens. Japanese houses were getting steadily bigger, growing from the tiny “rabbit hutches” of the postwar period into something similar to what Europeans enjoyed:

Japanese people were eating better, too, as local chefs and entrepreneurs took advantage of imported food to create the world’s best restaurant scene, and big new grocery stores like Aeon revolutionized home cooking. Gyms, cafes, and all kinds of public spaces were improving in quality and quantity. Culturally, Japan still felt at the cutting edge, with a vibrant street fashion scene, a golden age of anime and manga, a burst of musical creativity, and an explosion of online culture driven by websites like Niconico.
Given all this, it’s reasonable to ask whether Japan’s so-called “lost decades” after the bubble era were really lost at all. Japan’s catch-up growth had ended, and its living standards were still a bit below the very richest countries like Switzerland or Singapore, but it was solidly within the first rank of nations, and it was still upwardly mobile. It was innovative and vital, at the cutting edge of both technology and culture. And it had accomplished all of this without the kind of deep wrenching disruptions that America experienced after its own real estate bust.
But in the years since 2007, it feels like that Japanese future has been lost. Living standards grew only 6.5% between 2007 and 2022.:

And even that meager amount of growth was entirely due to increased labor input — women, old people, and young people going to work — rather than to productivity increases. In fact, Japanese workers produced less per hour in 2019 than in 2007, falling well behind other advanced nations:
Why did Japan stagnate starting in 2008? It’s not clear. Potential culprits include the global financial crisis, the big earthquake and nuclear accident of 2011, the subsequent shutdown of nuclear power, rapid aging, the retirement of the Baby Boom generation, and the ramping up of Chinese competition. Perhaps it was all of these combined. But whatever the reason, 2008 was the turning point.
This doesn’t mean Japan has stagnated in every regard. Its big cities continue to build themselves up, and its restaurants and shops have continued to improve. But when I go back to Japan each year, I can clearly feel the loss of that futuristic vitality that I felt 17 years ago. Japan’s consumer electronics are no longer the cutting edge, having long ago been supplanted by Apple and various other brands. Its auto companies have been caught flat-footed by the switch to battery EVs, and are now — like most Western brands — are in danger of losing the global market to innovative Chinese competitors.
America’s household appliances have caught up and surpassed Japan’s — plenty of American homes now sport Instant Pots, air fryers, sous vide cookers, video doorbells, smart speakers, and so on. Japan still has much better toilets, and there have been some locally specific innovations such as better air purifiers. But for the most part, Japanese homes still feel like they’re stuck in 2007. And that’s not even considering furniture, which tends to be much higher-quality in the U.S.
This does not mean Japan is a bad place to live, or that it’s no longer a rich country. Far from it. In fact, the amenities of life — the safety and friendliness, the visual beauty, the infrastructure, the unparalleled retail experience, and so on — make it extremely pleasant in ways that richer countries often fail to match. And if, like me, you’re a foreigner with an American salary who works remotely and sets his own hours, Japan can feel like a paradise. (In fact, this will be important for my argument in a bit.)
But for average Japanese people, life in Japan is hard to afford. Average real wages have actually decreased since 1996:

The situation is actually not quite that bad, since it involves substantial composition effects — falling labor hours, the retirement of highly paid Baby Boomers, the entry of more part-time workers into the labor force, and so on. In fact, hourly wages have increased by a modest amount. And the rise of women’s employment since 2002 has taken some financial pressure off of many families by adding a second income, just as it did in the U.S. in the 1980s and 1990s.
But the shift to dual-income households can only happen once. Ultimately, stagnant productivity and low overall growth will continue to make life a slog for the average Japanese family. The weak yen, which is caused in part by Japan’s slow growth, will continue to make imports expensive. And as the percentage of the elderly continues to steadily increase, Japan’s working-age citizens will have to toil more and more simply to afford the same standards of living — unless productivity can be raised.
Because being “the future” isn’t just about having fancy gadgets and cool screens on buildings. Technological progress — the development of new products and better production processes — is the ultimate font of a nation’s quality of life. If Japan can reclaim the mantle of “the future” — if it can reach the technological cutting edge across a wider array of products — it can secure an easier, more fulfilling life for its people.
Ultimately that is why I want the Japanese future back.
Stagnation isn’t a criticism; it’s an opportunity
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